Daughter of a Swan
by Everywhere Yet Nowhere
Summary: .:One shot:. Helen watches Paris sleep. She came to Troy for love, but she had no idea what inner turmoil she would face.


**Daughter of a Swan**

Disclaimer - I don't own Troy, even if I did there is little I could do with it as it was burnt to the ground.

A/N: As it was not mentioned in the movie, I thought I would say that Helen had a daughter to Menelaus called Hermione (Yes, Hermione, I am not a wild Harry Potter fangirl) so this is just a bit of fluff about Helen missing her daughter and thinking about the consequences of her actions.

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Dark curls shone in the candlelight. Skin, golden like that of Apollo, glowed. Chest covered in a midnight blue robe rose and fell with sleep.

Helen watched her lover. He was beautiful. Rarely was that word used for a man. But for Paris, Prince of Troy, it fit. Beautiful was the only way to describe him. Beautiful was the way she and him fit together. He looked even more so when he was asleep, his eyelids covered the eyes that carried all the concerns of this war. Paris was so peaceful spread out on their bed.

She loved him more than each breath that she was taking.

It had never felt like this with Menelaus, Aphrodite had not smiled upon the union. There was a dutiful bond between them, but other than that Helen was just a trophy to show everybody and use occasionly to slake the King's lust. That was all...

Then there was Hermione.

The child she had borne Menelaus. A gorgeous little girl with dark hair and dark curls... How Helen missed her daughter! Playing with her in the gardens, taking her to sea to teach her the names of all the shells and birds. Even though Sparta wasn't a place that was upheld in Helen's memories. Her times with Hermione were constantly dancing with her dreams. It was a pain so diabolical... An open wound that was sprinkled with salt whenever she saw Andromache and Hector with their little Astyanax, and even the servant girls who were accidently with child made her wince with yearning. Helen was only released of this awful pain when she was with Paris. She had left her little girl in Sparta and was so tied up in Aphrodite's ribbons that she thought not of how painful it would be now to think of her home. What kind of mother was she?

No, Troy was her home. Paris was her home.

Helen finally lay down and moulded herself around Paris' body. She knew even though she felt so safe there. She knew the scene would end. It was her fault, she could have said no to Paris when he asked her to go to Troy with him. No, it was not that easy. The look that his dark eyes held made her heart sing a song that drowned out every voice of reason that was in her head. Paris still did that to her. One look could set a fire alight in her, there was nothing but Paris. But when he was not around it seemed that Apollo had driven his chariot out of the sky. She had time to think. The consequences of her actions reared their ugly heads. She watched the fighting. She saw them die. Greeks and Trojans. Then she saw the woman, crying, screaming. The pain of losing a son or husband.

Then she heard them talk.

They blamed her for it all. And even lying next to Paris, she blamed herself too. How much more death would blossom from the seed she had sown? Who would be next?

There's no going back now, Helen told herself, right now all I can do is sleep. Helen slowly closed her eyes, but as soon as she closed them she screamed and opened them again.

As if waiting, burnt on the insides of her eyelids was a picture of Paris, his strong body riddled with Greek arrows. Alone and bleeding. Next to him was little Hermione her throat cut and her little body was covered in bruises. Helen panted like she had been running.

Paris awoke at the scream and drew a dagger from the bedside table. He looked around, but all he saw was Helen bolt upright with her hand over her mouth.

"Helen, what is wrong?" he started. The prince put the dagger back and wrapped his arms about Helen.

"I saw you- you and her, you cannot be next... I cannot let..." Helen shivered and pulled out of Paris' embrace. He looked at her with those same eyes, this time filled with confusion... Those eyes...

It had to be ignored. Helen stood up out of the bed and brushed herself off, she couldn't look at Paris. She couldn't face that she could be his doom. Not him.

"Paris, I will be back," she said with every intention of never returning. She could not let Paris, she thought that she could, but when the reality hit, when she saw it in her mind. She couldn't be the cause of Paris' death. "I love you, always," she said, quieter than she'd intended.

Paris stood. "Where are you going?" He didn't like the look on her face. Her blue sparkled with a purpose.

"I am going to walk, my love."

"I shall accompany you," he offered, making to get up.

"No!" Helen said suddenly. "I wish to walk alone and enjoy the night. Never fear I will be back."

Paris watched her and his eyes bored into hers, reluctantly, he lay back down. "Be careful."

Helen gave a spiteless smile as she left the stone room. It was too late for that.

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Helen returned to her room after Hector caught her. He was right. Paris needed her. If she left, he would follow, but now she'd follow him to whatever end. Or maybe this was just the beginning.

The cloaked woman re-entered the room. Paris was sleeping again and Helen praised of her beauty, could only stand in awe at what Aphrodite had gifted her. She loved Paris, and now that she was in Troy...

That was all that mattered.

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First Troy fanfiction! YEAH! I'd just like to say that my friend has Paris stored in her wardrobe, so Helen doesn't need to worry anyway... -wink-

Review. -wink-


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